Little Obsessions and Orbs
by Your Existence
Summary: I’d look him over every morning, a sort of habit now, part of my daily routine. I always start with his hair, work my way down, then work back up to his eyes. Those eyes that take in every little thing, every slight change. Edited.


**Title:** Little Obsessions and Orbs

**Author:** Your Existence

**Fandom:** Kingdom Hearts

**Date:** 22/9/08 (Sept. 22, 2008)

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Little Obsessions and Orbs**

Never in my life have I seen anyone, nor had anyone for myself, so picturesque.

Bus number ninety-five, route five, seat one on the left hand side. He sits there everyday, reading a thick novel or playing a handheld game. His pale blonde hair swirled heavily up to the right in the front, short locks jutting out here, there, everywhere in the back and sides. Ocean blue, ocean deep eyes focusing on his book, on his game, following along with the words, with the colors, with the page numbers, with the characters. Long, thick black lashes obscuring them from my view every now and then. Shirt a clean snow white, interfering with the pale of his skin. Crisp. Blue plaid tie tied perfectly. Neat. Slacks blacker than black. Creased. Formal black dress shoes. Shined. Your typical school uniform on such a boy.

I'd look him over every morning, a sort of habit now, part of my daily routine. I always start with his hair, work my way down, then work back up to his eyes. Those eyes that take in every little thing, every slight change.

How I wish those ocean blue, ocean deep eyes would focus on me. Take in my every detail, my every flaw, my every everything.

What am I doing? What am I thinking seems to be the most appropriate question, really. He'll never feel for me the way I feel for him. He's probably more into girls anyway. The best I could do is dream and wish. Dream and wish…

One particular morning, he was not on the bus. My heart nearly stopped. I searched the whole bus, looking if he sat somewhere else today, knowing that was extremely unlikely. Trying to calm my heart, I had slowly made my way to his seat, sitting up against the window like he did. I sighed, my heart actually calming, as I rested my head against the cold window.

'How silly of me. How silly…' I thought to myself.

I thought and worried about him all that day.

Next morning, he wasn't there again. So, like yesterday morning, I sat in his seat, rested my head on the window. The bus passed through a patch of sunlight and something twinkled at the end of seat, right behind the small wall separating the bus driver's seat from the rest of the bus. I reached my hand along the edge of the seat and my finger ran across something cool and smooth. Round too. I pulled it from its wedged spot and held it up, by the window, to better see it.

It was a blue orb, a tad a shade darker than his eyes, and it shone beautifully in the sunlight. I tried to picture him in the space next to me. His hair in that unique disarray, clothes clean and neat, shoes shining, a probable smile. And those eyes…

Those cerulean-dull eyes looking me over. Staring deep into me, into my soul. They'll bring to the surface everything about me. My every virtue, shortcoming, good deed, sin.

That's how powerful those beautiful eyes must be.

It was Tuesday of next week and he still wasn't on the bus. I swear must be suffering withdrawal symptoms, because I was irritated with people who did nothing to irritate me. I jumped when someone called my name. I was twitchy. Couldn't stop my fingers from tapping and drumming on the desks. I got a detention slip for continued interruption of class.

At the end of the day, I felt like I needed to smoke more than a few cigarettes and I didn't even smoke.

Thursday morning, I decided I'd do the unthinkable. Unthinkable for me that is.

This young, beautiful beyond words boy didn't know me from a can of paint, and I was going to go over to his home. I thought over how I would get there, what I would wear, what I would say, how my voice would sound, what kind of small gifts I was going to bring.

I, later in the day, decided to move the visit to Friday. It seemed more appropriate. Besides, I had had another detention to serve and wouldn't be able to make it anyway.

Happiness and sadness flooded me and the space around me Friday morning. Happiness because he was finally here, riding the bus again. Sadness because I was really, 'really' looking forward to seeing what his house looked like.

He sat in his usual spot, reaching into his bag when he suddenly froze. I leaned against the small wall separating another seat from mine, my elbow on top of it. Resting my head in my hand, I watched as he inspected his area.

He bounced on his seat a little, as if to test the springs. He ran his long, pale fingers along the window, stopping when he reached the very spot I rested my head all the days he were absent. My eyes widened as I finally understood what he was doing. He was checking to see if anyone had sat in his spot. I suppose that, when he was absent, no one, not a soul, ever sat in his seat. So, this must be something new for him. I inwardly smiled at the thought.

He appeared to be sniffing at the air, which I thought was silly. I felt kind of glad, though, that I decided to switch scents. When he started to scan all the faces on the bus, I had turned my head so that, from his position, it looked like I was either napping or looking down at the designs on the bus floor.

I was about to look up to relief my neck of the position when I felt someone trying to burn hole into my head. Or something like it. I kept my poise for a good five minutes before I just couldn't stand it anymore and looked up. And just like I thought, those cerulean-dull, powerful, almost all-knowing eyes bore right into my spring green. I felt small.

'Give it back.' he mouthed to me. Anger roared in his eyes. My brows pulled together immediately.

'Wha… What?' I mouthed back. 'Give what?'

'You know what. You are the one who sat here.' he glared. I realized what he was asking for after a minute. He was looking for his orb.

I thought over what I should do. 'Prove it.' mouthed back to him, suddenly feeling playful. Those powerful cerulean eyes flared up in anger and the playfulness evaporated into the stale air of the bus.

'I don't have time for such foolishness. Give. It. Back.' I couldn't help but smile at his kitten-that-thinks-he's-a-tiger look. But deep down, I had a feeling that he could beat me into a fine dust despite his size.

I rolled my lips in, trying to stop smiling. I didn't the way things were heading. Having him mad was eating at me. I looked away from his eyes for a second, then back. 'Well, it's on my dresser at home.' mouthed back slowly. He just sat there, his face blank, eyes unreadable. Then, he suddenly stood up, along with his book bag, and spoke smoothly to the bus drive to stop and let 'the bastard over there and I' off. He spoke so politely and grammatical.

The bus came to a abrupt halt and its door squeaked open. He silently descended down the four steps, me following behind him.

"Which way?" he said in haste.

"Which way to where? We are supposed to be going to school…" I looked north as emphasis.

"Your home, redhead! Your. Home!" he snarled. I shivered. I really, really didn't like him like this. Anger and irritation made his features look disoriented. I started south, not saying a word. Judging from where he made us get off at, it'll be about an hour to hour and a half, at the pace we were going, to get to my house. It was a fast pace at which we were walking, but it still would take a while.

We were walking side by side, his hands in his jacket pockets, my thumbs in my pant pockets. It was about seven minutes that we had walked in complete silence when I asked, "So, what's up with the orb?" He didn't respond. "Why do you keep it there? Anyone could just take it…"

"No," he spat. "You'd have to sit in my seat to see where I had hid it." He looked as he was pouting about someone finding his orb.

"I'm guessing one has ever sat in your seat before?" He just huffed. I chucked quietly. "Well, you still haven't answered my question."

"What do you mean?" He paused. "No. No one has--"

"No, not that one. You have already answered that one. I mean the 'Why do you keep it wedged in the seat?' question." I smiled. He didn't say anything for a good little while. Then he stopped walking.

"I don't have to explain myself to you. Why'd you take it in the first place?" He shifted his weight to his left leg. Huh. I didn't know he was so short…

"Redhead? Are you going to answer me?"

"Hey, my name's not 'Redhead', okay?" I fumed. "So stop calling me that. It's Axel. A-X-E-L, 'kay?! Got it memorized?" I had tapped my temples as emphasis. My breathing was kind of hard. After a second, the expression on his face registered in my mind and I gasped, realizing what I did. My hands flung up, one over my mouth and the other loosely around the base of my neck, like I was about to strangle myself. I usually said something like that when trying to smart with people. I didn't want to use it on him. I expected him to get more mad than he already was, but his lips twitched up the tiniest bit at the corners. He tried to keep his composure, but ended up smiling anyway and letting out a small series of giggles. His eyes teared up just a bit.

"I could have sworn that you were just going blow up just then…" I said after he regained some of his composure. The hand around the base of my neck slipped to the back of my head, running and twisting my fingers through the long red locks nervously.

He giggled a little more. "I could help but laugh at your sudden expression and gestures. I tried to keep from, but I couldn't." He sighed after a moment and started walking again, passing me up.

My expression? Gestures? I followed after him, wondering what I might have looked like to made _him_ laugh at me. Huh. _I_ made him laugh. _I _made him laugh! That totally washed away any guilt I felt for saying what I said earlier and I felt better.

We were a few blocks from my house when Larxene's mother, the biggest snitch (bitch, too) in the world, just happened to look out her office window, and we were in her line of sight. She made a face as she pulled up her window and yelled, "Axel? Axel, is that you? Of course that's you. No one has flaming red hair like yours." She didn't smile.

"Ah! Ms. M. How are you on this fine day like today?"

"I'm fine." she spat. "Question is, what are you doing out of school? Skipping it looks like." I could hear her tapping her foot.

"It's not really skipping, Ms. M, if classes haven't started. It's seven-fifteen and classes don't start until seven-fifty." I smiled. She glared.

"You are to be at school when you are supposed to. No matter if classes have started or not. I know you're pretty and all, but that doesn't me you go around skipping school with your girlfriend!" She always, _always_ made up things and assumed things, even if she knew herself it wasn't true.

"I… I, uhm, look like girl?" he whispered, his cheeks flushing a bit. I chuckled.

"I'm telling your mother, Axel! And boy, she will not be happy to hear that you are skipping school with those little girls up there." She stomped from the window, then suddenly appeared and yelled, "Oh my god! You're about to go and _fuck her_, aren't you?" She covered her mouth as she gasped.

"What?!" he yelled, face redder than a tomato.

"Huh?"

"Yep! I knew it! I can tell from your expressions that's what you came all the way back here to do." She rolled her eyes clicked her teeth when glared at her. "I mean come on! No school children would come all the way back here (I lived in a rich neighborhood out in the trees) for just some lame reason besides to fuck each other! Your mother-both of your mothers- will be ashamed of you both." She left the window.

We both just stood there, shocked. I could feel the hate radiating off of him, coming in strong waves. I started to pull toward my house when he tried to run over to her house. We didn't even walk five feet when bright different colored translucent and opaque rubber rings and small, flat square packages came raining from the sky.

"And don't forget to use lube!" She snickered and left for, hopefully, the last time. It was quiet. Dead quiet. I could feel him shaking, more and more with each passing second. Then, I believe something broke in his head that shouldn't have broke. A long, colorful string of colorful words shot out of his mouth. Words that probably never formed in his mouth before. He tried to break loose from my grip, and I would have let him go to unleash hell in her house, but I didn't want any charges pressed against him, me, nor my mother.

Between his chains of colorful words, he'd face me and kick and yell and spit and punch. He'd yell 'Let go! Let me go!' over and over. When I finally managed to get him through the door of my house, he slid down on the floor against it. Fresh tears spilled from those eyes, sliding down his pink-tinted cheeks and onto his shirt. I couldn't stand to watch him cry, and I didn't think he wanted to be comforted at the moment, so I escaped to my room to fetch the orb. I waited about thirty minutes before going back downstairs to the front room. I expected to find him still sitting in his spot in front of the door, but he wasn't.

_What if he left and killed Ms. M? Well, that'd be just the best thing that ever happened. Really. But what if left. What if he hates me forever?_ All these sort of thoughts raced through my head as I searched all downstairs.

"Axel? Axel, you don't have any peanut butter?" His hoarse voice asked. He was in the kitchen. I sighed in great relief when I saw him standing on a chair looking through the cabinets.

"Um, yes, I do have some." I went over to one of the cabinets over the sink, reached all the way to the back with, and pulled out a large jar of JIF's creamy peanut butter. He jumped from the chair and took it from my hand.

"Thank you." He put the chair back at the bar and went over to his little work station. He had got out three slices of bread, celery, carrots, cucumbers, jelly, mustard and a half a glass of fruit punch.

"Sorry. I raided your kitchen." he said, smoothing peanut butter over a slice of bread.

"No, no. It's okay. I don't mind" I smiled half-heartedly. It was quiet for a minute. Then he said,

"I get the biggest craving of peanut butter when I'm really mad or really sad." He laughed once. "Then I always put the strangest things on the sandwich. He nodded at the counter.

"Carrots and cucumber with peanut butter and jelly? Mustard, too. Odd." I made a face and he laughed.

"Yeah." He stacked the vegetables on the first slice of bread, then covered the second slice with jelly. He put more peanut butter on the other side of the second slice, stacked vegetables on that slice, squeezed the tiniest bit of mustard, then jelly-ed the last slice. He cut it in half and took a big bite.

"That's one, uh, special sandwich." I commented. He just nodded and smiled a tiny smile. Stuffing my hand in my pockets, I remembered the orb. I fished for it and warmed it in my hand while he finished off his meal.

After he finished and washed it down with the juice, I gave him the orb and said sorry. He examined it, which would have made me mad, but he didn't know me, like I said, from a can of paint. So, of course it'd be natural to check for any dismantlement or damage if you just got an item of yours back from a total stranger.

"Thank you." he said, putting the orb in his pocket.

"No. No…"

Silence once again filled a gap.

"Um, why did you hide it there? In the seat…" I asked quietly. I knew that I had already tried to ask that question and got shot down. I don't know why I asked again.

He just stared blankly at the dark granite counters, fingertips lightly and quietly tapping a tune. Then he turned those cerulean-dull eyes towards me. He seemed to be searching for something in my light spring green eyes. I wondered if he found anything good. Something good enough where he'd tolerate me being in the same room as him. So that I could at least look at those all too beautiful features and wish that I could run my fingers along them. To touch his pale skin. To lace my finger in and out of those golden locks. To run my thumb along his light pink lips. Maybe even _nip_ or _lick_ at them.

"I don't have a good reason, really." He finally said, snapping me from wandering and wondering. "Being selfish, I guess. My friends, Hayner, Pence, and Olette used to ride the same bus and we all sat in that seat. They moved away a long time ago." He sighed. "We each had an orb." He slid the orb out of his pocket and held it up. "Red for Hayner, Green for Pence, Yellow for Olette, and Blue for me. And when you hold it up to the light just right, it sparkles and shines like no other." The florescent lighting of the kitchen did the orb no sort of justice.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry I sat in your seat, then even having the nerve to take something sentimental from you." I apologized again. And he just shook his head.

"I was being selfish."

"That's not being selfish at all." I disagreed.

He tapped at the counters. "Why did you take it? The orb." I caught me off guard, though I don't know how or why. I should have seen this question coming.

"I…" How was I going to say this without being a stalker-y? I couldn't think of anything that could help me but the truth, so I might as well tell him the truth.

"I… I… I missed you." He heard his breath catch and I sighed. "Even though weren't gone that long, I missed you. I miss you when we're not close by. I need to know that you are alright all of the time. I worried myself a grave when you weren't on the bus that Wednesday morning and the next morning and the next. I got a few days detention from tapping my fingers too loud on the desk wondering if you were okay and healthy. When I sat in your seat, I felt closer to you in a way. And when I found the orb, I felt even closer, because it was yours and I could carry it in my pocket. A little piece of you with me all the time." I was looking down at the bar countertop whole time I was explaining myself. I didn't want to see his expression when his anger or disgust would displayed on his face. After a minute, I heard him walk out of the kitchen.

_I knew it. He's disgusted with me._ I felt the tears prickle in my eyes. I shut them careful not to let a single tear slip out. I waited to hear the front door slam, but the slam never came. Everything outside the kitchen was carpet, so I couldn't hear his footfalls if he was still in the house walking around.

"Look at me, Axel." he said suddenly, lifting my head up with his fore finger by the chin. I dared to open my eyes and look into his. They were hard and serious. Dull blue stone. I almost winced.

"You really feel that way about me?" I nodded. I truly did. He laughed. "You're way braver than me. I couldn't find it in myself to walk up to you and confess myself to you."

"You... You feel for me the way I feel for you... too?" He nodded shyly. I could have squealed in delight and happiness. "But you were so mad at me..."

"Yeah, I was mad, but you saw how I couldn't stay mad at you for long." He smiled.

The dull stone in his eyes had softened before, but now they were hard like before.

"Do you love me? Truly. Flaws and all?" His had eyes darted to the counter where he made his 'sandwich', then to the front door in the direction of Ms. M's house as he said _flaws_. I nodded,

"Yes." He smiled and the dull stone in his eyes softened.

"Then, I guess that's all that really matters. Gender nor height"-I smiled at this and he did also- "matters to me."

I let the tears fall this time, for they were tears of joy and relief. I tried to wipe them away, but just kept coming.

"After you stop the waterworks, I have a little plan I want to execute" He gave a sly smile. I wiped at the tears again with the back of my hand.

"Okay." I smiled back.

-

We walked up her steps, hearts racing, fingers flexing and un-flexing. He grabbed my hand, intertwining our fingers and knocked at her door. Heavy footfalls sounded from inside the house, then the door opened.

"Hello. How… Oh." Ms. M frowned.

"Ms. M, I fear you have mistaken something about us." he began.

"Oh, really?" she said sarcastically. "And what is that."

He smiled. "We're not boyfriend-girlfriend."

Her eyes narrowed. "Okay… And?" She carefully examined us. _Did they fuck?_ was probably what she was thinking at the moment.

"Ms. M, am I a girl?" She looked him up and down. Stared at his face for a long time, then concluded, "Yes, you are. No boy could and should have such girly-girly features and curves." She smiled triumphantly. He lightly squeezed my hand, signaling my cue. I bent slightly down, far enough so he could tip-toe a little ways up and kiss me directly on the lips. Sparks flew. I felt them heating up and going off as the kiss lengthened. It was amazing and sweet.

He broke off before we could run out of too much air. "Well, Ms. M, I'm as boy as I will ever be. Girly-girly features and all." He licked his lips and smirked. I felt, and probably looked, smug.

"Oh… Oh god…" She covered her mouth, gasping. "Don't… Don't have any shame?!"

"Well, don't you?" He gestured at her clothes. "Wearing polka dots with stripes. Tsk, tsk." He shook his head shamefully and sighed. She looked down at her clothes. She huffed and her face turned all red. When she turned around to go back into the house, he threw in three small containers and was down the steps before the door finally slammed shut. I followed after him.

"What'd you throw in?"

"You'll see." He said, rather pleased.

Soon enough, when we were at my front door. Ms. M screamed and rushed out her house, practically falling down the steps. She was plugging her nose and tears watered up in her eyes.

"Ha! Those were stink bombs?" He just nodded, enjoying the sight before him. When Ms. M fell onto the ground and people came out their houses to see the commotion, he dragged me inside, pulling me down by the collar to kiss me again.

In all my life have a ever seen anyone, nor had anyone for myself, so picturesque.


End file.
